


Eat your brains out

by mollyroll, Petra4President



Series: Eating Out [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Blood and Gore, Don't copy to another site, Guns, M/M, Suicide Attempt, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:21:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28563450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mollyroll/pseuds/mollyroll, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petra4President/pseuds/Petra4President
Summary: Then he looked up and saw him, backlit by the bright rays of the sun. The embodiment of an angel if he had ever seen one.He was an insane marksman. Each shot of his rifle rang true, blasting those fuckers’ heads open.Corpse didn’t know what to say to his saviour. Just a simple ‘thank you’ wouldn’t cut it.“Why… how…”The slimmer man smiled, quickly covering his face with his hand. Corpse’s heart fluttered at the sight, but he just chalked it up to adrenaline.“I’m just a lucky shot!”
Relationships: Corpse Husband/Sykkuno (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Eating Out [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2092854
Comments: 12
Kudos: 172
Collections: Server Simps





	Eat your brains out

**Author's Note:**

> written with much love by petra and me <3
> 
> this fic will have a sister fic with all the smut shoved in, so if that's your jam feel free to subscribe to the series!
> 
> Petra: Can I just say it’s an honor to write this with one of my favorite writers in the tag? Because it is <3
> 
> the honour is mine bb ;; -molly

Corpse flipped the machete in his hand, smirking at the decomposing cadaver who was stumbling his way. Fluids that he’d rather not think about seeped from its jaws. It groaned at him the closer it came and, with one swing of his blade, the top half of the zombie’s head came clean off. Blood splattered on the now empty freezer doors and it’s body slumped to the floor, finally dead. Corpse grimaced, avoiding the puddle beginning to form as he pocketed the few bars of mint chocolate he managed to find.

_ One more day in this hellhole _ . That’s what Corpse always told himself. Truthfully, he had yet to gather enough courage to end it all. No matter how  _ hopeless  _ it seemed. 

The sun shone bright up above as he walked out of the gas station. His machete was filthy with viscous fluid and rotting flesh, but he was long since past the point of giving a fuck. He swung it in a wide arch, splattering gore everywhere, then slotted it into his backpack straps. It had to be accessible enough to whip out at a moment’s notice. This readiness is what had kept him alive for so long, against all odds.

If the machete failed, he had a baseball bat with nails stuck into it. If the bat failed, he had a small knife. If the knife failed, he had a pistol with a single bullet.  _ They _ had sneered at him when they threw it along with his meager belongings, before driving away in a cloud of dust. He was to use it if he needed an easy out. It was far more than the likes of him deserved. 

This had been his life for little under a year. Surviving off whatever food scraps he could find or kill, defending himself with makeshift weapons, sleeping with one eye open… He had been part of a group, originally, but it didn’t last too long…

This particular run had been motivated by his need to find medication. He was used to pain, but certain pills made it so his body didn’t feel like it was falling apart at every available second. He had been to this town once before a few weeks ago, and he knew where to look for medication. The pharmacy wasn’t located far from the gas station, but to get there he had to walk through a series of alleys that always made his skin crawl. 

When he got to the entry, he flattened his body as much as he could against the main building. He used a handheld mirror to check around the corner. Nothing but trash, dried leaves and the harsh rays of the midday sun. Just in case, he carefully removed his machete, holding it at the ready as he made his way through the debris. The next few turns were fine too, nothing out of the ordinary. Just as he got to the door of the pharmacy, his heart sank. Whereas the old door had been ripped open long before he arrived in town the first time, an iron barred door now blocked his path.

Fuck. Someone had been here.

Corpse tested the door, rattling the lock a bit to see if it could be opened. It could not. Disappointed, he set out to walk around the building and maybe break a window to get in. Usually he avoided making so much noise but-

A rustle in the leaves got his heart racing with a surge of adrenaline. These types of noises were never good news. If he was lucky, it would just be a stray dog looking for food. However, he knew that wouldn’t be the case. 

Fuck. He had gotten cocky.

He clutched the machete to his chest hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. He didn’t know these alleys well enough, there was a very real possibility he would get lost and run into more zombies… but if he stayed here then his fate was sealed. Arming himself with valour, throwing a quick prayer to a god in which he had never believed for good measure, he took off running in the opposite direction. A quick glance at the intersecting alleyway confirmed his fears. Three or four zombies were slowly dragging themselves in his general direction. He ran forward past them, turning a sharp right at the bend. He was making too much noise but this was his only hope. He could only take so many in hand to hand combat.

Another turn, another bend, and to his absolute horror, he came face to face with one of the damned. Close enough for the stench to creep its way up his nostrils. Close enough to stare into its glossy eyes. Almost on instinct, he sliced its head clean off its body, using the flat side of the machete to push the body off from himself. Two more were following, slowly advancing in on him. This street was too narrow to maneuver safely around them. He turned back, down another alley. No zombies, he took a hard left and… 

A dead end. 

A single dumpster taunted him at the very end of the alley, flanked by three buildings. The leftmost had a fire escape. If he climbed on top of the dumpster then maybe, just maybe, he would be able to reach it. The groaning of the undead grew closer, louder. Corpse knew he didn’t have much time.

With sore limbs, he moved the dumpster into position, already seeing the first few zombies enter the alleyway. With trembling arms, he climbed onto it, panting hard as his heart raced in his chest. He had never seen so many gathered together. Corpse was always careful to avoid the city for this exact reason. In the suburbs and towns, the population of zombies were often sparse. This…this was a disaster.

He was barely able to reach the bottom latch to the staircase but it was jammed stuck. Probably rusted over, it just wouldn’t budge. And the zombies kept advancing onto him. Cursing, he took a step back and froze at the way the dumpster beneath him rattled. 

There was probably no way out of this but to fight. 

He took out his bat and readied himself, hoping the dumpster would hold his weight. As the first zombie got within distance he swung with all his strength, caving its head in. Its pitiful body dropped right there and Corpse allowed himself the momentary joy of one small victory. Then came a second zombie, and he was able to bash in its skull. A third, two more simultaneously, he couldn’t keep up. Dead hands ripped the bat from his fingers, as others wrapped around his ankles threatening to pull. He whipped out his machete and sliced the hands clean off, but the angle wasn’t efficient for slicing heads off. He couldn’t fight them all at once. Zombies kept pulling at his legs and he retreated further back against the brick wall. Corpse brought up his leg, slamming down on one of the zombies until it’s brains splattered against the buildings. He could feel the dumpster begin to slowly roll from under him, threatening to drop him to the ground below.

This was it.

His heart felt like it would jump out of his chest at any moment. Dread seeped deep into his bones.

This was the end.

Shaky hands moved to his hip holster, touching the cold metal of his glock.

This was how he died.

His head was spinning as he removed the gun, lifting it to his temple.

It would be better than becoming one of  _ them. _

More hands reached onto the dumpster, attempting to tear it apart with inhuman strength.

He removed the safety latch and then-

One shot. Two shots.

He didn’t feel the zombie’s teeth tearing into his flesh. Nor did he feel the bullet ripping his brain apart. 

Three, four, five… he stopped counting. His ears felt like cotton wool had been stuffed into them. All he could hear was the thrum of blood in his arteries.

Alive. He was still alive.

The zombies were dropping in motionless heaps on the ground. 

Corpse struggled to take in air, heart still racing wildly. He was barely able to jump off the lid of the dumpster, landing on unsteady feet. He couldn’t find his savior and he wasn’t quite sure what he would do when he found them. 

Then he looked up and saw  _ him _ , backlit by the bright rays of the sun. The embodiment of an angel if he had ever seen one. 

He was an insane marksman. Each shot of his rifle rang true, blasting those fuckers’ heads open. Still in shock, Corpse fixed the safety latch and reattached it back at his hip. All the zombies were dead.

Soft footsteps sounded above him as his saviour walked down the fire escape, unlocking the ladder for him with a loud whirr. 

Corpse didn’t know what to say. Just a simple ‘thank you’ wouldn’t cut it.

“Why… how…”

The slimmer man smiled, quickly covering his face with his hand. Corpse’s heart fluttered at the sight, but he just chalked it up to adrenaline. 

“I’m just a lucky shot!”


End file.
